Book Of Narratives

Her Biggest Nightmare

All bloody and torn apart; thick clumps of dark red rivers spurts out of the many amounts of scrapes and cuts from her arms and legs and stomach and head; her ragged up clothes, barely held together by the thinning rusty thread, barely covering her bruised body. Her black lacy bra showing through quite tremendously.

Cold.

Her body and her heart. The more than chilling frosty air nipping painfully at her beaten and exposed skin, wrapping like an old over washed woollen material.

Melancholy.

It wraps around Miriam in a horrifying wave of endless pain. It's mental. The physical torture beating her up mentally. There's an awful ringing sensation in her ears, the beat of an echoing drum, ripping at her ear drums and temporarily making her deaf. The hum; shamelessly annoying to the sensitivity of her ears.

She cannot think clearly; her thought process fuzzy and hazy as if she is experiencing an incoherent memory in the form of ones biggest nightmare. Her brain is dull from the ongoing pain, from the cold and from her agonising feelings.

However, one single thought stays at the forefront of her mind. Only one stays focussed and palpable, even in her messed up mind:

What was she doing here?

It's a question that will, for now at least, remain unanswered.

The room she is in, and has been in for quite some time, is barren and plain- a typical cell with dark stone walls and an iron door, one lone chair in the centre in which Miriam is sat on uncomfortably with her hands and legs tied -save for the intricately made spider webs that hung along the corners of the walls and mildew and damp riddled along the ceiling and walls. A long wooden torch is attached to the wall via a piece of strong and durable metal, that adds to the whole medieval look.

All she remembers, before waking up in this cold and damp cell, was that she was on her way home from an evening at the nightclub. It was dangerous, she of all people knew that, but she couldn't exactly go in her car as she was pretty hammered and her lousy unreliable friends were all drunk- even the friend who was nominated as the driver; Issy.

To be honest, the story behind this is VERY cliché, but I'll tell you anyway.

So, having decided to walk her hangover, she stumbled out the door; the flashing rainbow lights annoyingly bright and winking to her sore eyes. She felt an ear splitting headache arising from the base of her skull, awaiting till morning for it to hit her full force.

She didn't quite know where she was going as it was as if she was looking into the hall of mirrors from a circus or festival, her movements were sloppy and uncoordinated, and if she wasn't careful enough, she could land into a small pothole on the pavement, where the uncomfortable contraptions women call high heels she stupidly decided to wear, could, or probably would, break.

And right now, in her state of intoxication, it will NOT be a good thing.

Miriam was just walking by a dark alleyway, when she heard, or thought she heard, a scuffle of some sort, soon followed by a bang and a small feminine yelp. Frowning, she curiously decided to investigate the noise.

Well, you know what the saying is right? Curiosity killed the cat. She wasn't killed, of course, but she felt pain that is worse than any death could ever be.

Because not even half the way there, a man of around 28 years old, unbeknownst to her foggy self, silently and stealthily stepped behind her, lifting his hand up, and without being able to react, with being so drunk, hit a certain part of her neck, that knocked her out in seconds.

And now, after that recounting memory, she finds herself once again in the dark and dingy cell; confused and frightened beyond her fog induced thoughts.

Her heavy head droops down, chin pressing against her chest, as exhaustion hits her once more. The remnants of a hangover still lingering in her foggy infused mind, waiting to attack her.

Even though she tries, and god does she try, she simply cannot fight to keep consciousness.

And slowly and painfully, Miriam allows her clogged up mind to shut down for awhile, the sleep covering her like a peacefully warm blanket.

Warmth spreads through her entire being, enrapturing her heart in false comfort.